Think.
Come on—think!
A way to get through this crisis.
It's okay. It'll be fine. It's just that something reddish appeared in Eto's right eye. Just say it's a pre-existing condition—one of those rare diseases that causes this…
I forced myself to come up with an escape plan, but the logical part of my mind rejects it.
You think there'd be something like that? Look at Father's face. No excuse would fly in front of that look in his eyes.
Damn it, don't give up. You've never given in before even when you wanted to. There has to be an escape route.
There is no escape plan. You know exactly what Father's 'hatred' is like, yet here you are?
Shit! So what am I supposed to do? If I stay here, it's literally one second away from a knife attack.
Forget convincing Father. For now, priority number one is protecting Eto.
Eto… yeah, I have to protect Eto.
If I stay here, Father's going to get to Eto…!
"Koma."
His cold, dry voice carried the force of blowing away every thought I had in an instant.
I was terrified to look into Father's eyes.
Because the moment our eyes met, it felt like the Father I once knew would be completely erased.
"I'll say it again. Put 'that' down immediately."
Ha… you just moments ago were calling her 'the child' and cooing over her, and now just because she's a ghoul, you call her 'that' like a piece of property? So very Father.
I wanted to let out a bitter laugh, but my lips were so tense they didn't open, so nothing came out.
It's hopeless.
Even if I might have persuaded Father at another time, there's no way I can convince him now that he's blinded by ghoul-hatred.
Going head-to-head with Father would be insane, too.
He's a 16-year-veteran, Beta-rated Ghoul Investigator, and I'm a plain civilian kid whose condition's been off lately. There's no way I can match him.
Then there's only one option left.
Okay, time to run.
First, I'll hide Eto in a safe spot, then see if I can talk it out or not.
My gaze goes to the front door—about six, seven meters away. It's a distance I could sprint if I set my mind to it, but with Father standing between us, that's the hitch.
Thud!
Clink, clink, clink!
A metal briefcase, its latch open, thudded onto the floor.
He must have seen me looking and guessed what I was thinking.
Something blood-red and metallic was rapidly assembling in Father's hand.
Even seeing it for the first time, I could tell that massive butcher's blade was a Quinque, the ghoul-hunting weapon used by Ghoul Investigators.
In a flash, the gigantic blade, as if to cover his entire torso, was aimed at me.
Maybe she felt the chill radiating from a weapon designed to hunt ghouls. Eto grabbed at my collar, her face twisted in fear.
Rumble…
I heard thunder—perhaps a sign that the rain was about to pour in earnest.
"That must be a lie too, that she's your child. At least I've never heard of a child being born between a ghoul and a human."
"You never know. Maybe there are more than you'd expect—you're just the only one who doesn't know, Father."
"You're not in the mood for wordplay, huh."
"I'm not kidding either. They're out there—those heart-wrenching stories of love between ghouls and humans."
"Spare me the sickening stories."
I tried every trick to divert his attention, but nothing worked. Forget using the front door. I'd have to find another way.
With my eyes flickering around, I hooked the folding table onto the top of my right foot and swung my leg toward Father.
"Pathetic!"
Crack!!
I heard the wooden table be severed cleanly by the Quinque, but I didn't see it. I was already opening the window and hurling myself through it.
"What—?!"
I felt Father's astonished shout receding rapidly.
I felt the dizzying acceleration as I threw my body out and hugged Eto tightly to my chest.
"Oh damn! I can't believe I actually carried out this plan!!"
It was the final contingency in case of Father's surprise visit: give up everything and bolt with Eto—Operation 36: Hasty Retreat!
Actually hurling myself out made me want to punch the me of a few days ago for thinking up such a plan.
It's because of movies. It was a mistake to let action flicks inspire me.
Crash! Crash! Crash! Crash!
Directly below the south-facing window I'd just leapt from stood a large garden tree.
I gritted my teeth as the branches pummelled my back like clubs, and when I finally hit the garden floor like a finishing blow, the shock was so intense I couldn't move for a while, feeling as though my lungs were about to collapse.
"Waaah~! Waaahhh~!"
Through the blurred haze, as if my face was buried in jelly, I heard Eto's cries.
Her voice sounded clear—I must not be hurt, but she was definitely shaken up.
I shook my head vigorously to clear it and pull myself together.
I crawled like a baby learning to walk, and once my wits returned, I put my hands on the ground and stood up.
Oww…!!
"Tch… it really doesn't work like the movies."
A branch was lodged deep in the lower right part of my clothes, which were scraped and torn, revealing small cuts. Since it was stuck pretty deep, it was better not to pull it out.
I vowed to myself never to let stupid thoughts from action movies affect me again, then spurred my heavy legs and prepared to run.
Rumble!!!
A dull thud struck from right behind me.
I thought, No way… but convinced he was more than capable, I didn't even look back—I just bolted.
As expected, Father had followed me, jumped from the fifth floor, and landed in the garden.
People who've been through rough jobs really are different. Unlike me, who botched my movie imitation and was a total mess, he'd landed without a scratch and looked completely composed.
Father yanked the Quinque, half-buried in the ground—perhaps used to cushion the blow—and shouted.
"Stop right there, Koma!!"
"No way!!!"
You thought teenage rebellion ended in eighth grade? Hell no. I'll show you what ultimate rebellion looks like.
Whoosh!!
The rain started pouring in earnest. Not exactly the most welcome weather for a getaway, especially carrying a baby with a weak immune system.
I tore off a strip from my shredded shirt and wrapped it around Eto to keep her from getting soaked.
I heard Father's footsteps as he chased after me.
He was almost fifty, but his body, honed as a Ghoul Investigator, showed no sign of age-related wear.
If this kept up, he'd catch me. I devised a plan and headed toward the shopping district.
Even in the rain, there were a number of people with umbrellas in the shopping street. Not as many as I'd hoped, but better than nothing.
I darted between them, and they recoiled in surprise, making space.
People aren't going to want to see a Quinque brandished in a crowd, right?
A Ghoul Investigator is still a public servant.
He'd know that openly brandishing a Quinque in a crowded place would be problematic, and his target is a baby. People who don't know the situation won't view Father harming Eto kindly.
In other words, this spot was to my advantage. I needed to create a standoff here where I could hide Eto or at least ensure her safety before talking.
But I'd overlooked one thing.
…Father's obsession with ghouls was far more dangerous than I'd imagined.
"…?"
I didn't hear Father's pursuit anymore, so I turned around in bewilderment.
He was nowhere to be seen.
What's going on? Did he hold back because of all these eyes on us?
Just then, when I stopped running with that thought in mind—
CRAAASH!!!!!!!!!
Right in front of me.
A blood-soaked, dark-red butcher's blade flew like an arrow, smashed into the concrete, and stuck fast. It was unmistakably Father's Quinque.
A chill ran down my spine.
The Quinque had flown along the exact path I'd been running, through the space at chest level where Eto was cradled.
If I'd taken even one more step without realizing, that blade would have cruelly impaled Eto…!
"Gah…!!!"
I groaned at the terrifying thought and reached to pull the Quinque out.
I wanted to hide it somewhere so Father couldn't use it, but it was embedded too firmly in the concrete. Even if I'd pulled it out, its weight would have stopped me from escaping properly.
He actually used lethal force in full view of everyone—does he even have a shred of sense, Father!?
Snatch!
"!?!?"
I clenched my teeth at the feeling of something grabbing the back of my neck.
My plan had backfired. I picked a crowded spot to restrict Father's movements, but he used the crowd to hide among them and ambush me.
Before I knew it, Father was behind me, grabbed me, and threw a punch.
Whack!!!
…How long had it been since Father last hit me?
The blow felt like it shook the contents of my skull, and I couldn't clear my head for a moment. When I collapsed onto the rainwater-soaked concrete, the branch in my back dug in even deeper.
Crawling and groaning, I caught sight of Father pulling out the Quinque at the edge of my vision.
His gaze, as if it could freeze the pouring rain into ice, fell on me.
"Hand her over."
"…"
I wanted to say no, but the shock stole my voice.
Instead, I pressed Eto even tighter to my chest to show my refusal.
Father's brows twitched with anger. He reached out, trying to wrench Eto away from me by force.
In that moment, pretending to crawl along the ground, I secretly hurled a chunk of concrete I'd hidden in my hand at Father.
"!?"
Startled by the surprise attack, Father took a step back.
Seizing the gap, I sprang to my feet and dashed into the crowd that had gathered, drawn by the commotion.
"Tch!"
Father rinsed the concrete chips from his eye with rainwater, and when I vanished into the crowd, he glared, clicking his tongue.